


ignite

by testosterone_tea



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Giveaway fic, M/M, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testosterone_tea/pseuds/testosterone_tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John seduces Sherlock in the back of a cab while they're both all fired up post-case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ignite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sheananagins13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheananagins13/gifts).



> This is the third place giveaway fic for my fourth giveaway, which celebrated my fic [The Effect of Memory](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1773439) hitting 10k hits.
> 
> The third place winner was [sheananagins13!](http://sheananagins13.tumblr.com/)

It was always like this.

Sherlock jiggled his knee and clenched his hands in a vain attempt to rein in the feeling overflowing his system. His heart was still pounding, even after they'd finished catching the jewel thief. He chanced a look across the cab at John, and his heart nearly seized up. John was right there, and he was practically radiating adrenaline and the thrill of the chase.

Rooftops. Sherlock really needed to take far more cases involving chasing suspects across rooftops if it made John look like that.

John chose that moment to look up and catch his eyes. Sherlock couldn't blink as John locked gazes with him, seemingly mesmerized. 

"What?" Sherlock asked hoarsely after a moment. 

"Your eyes," John said, still staring. "I swear they change colour..."

"They don't actually change colour," Sherlock said quickly. "It's actually a mutation of my iris called heterochromia, which makes – "

"Does it also make them glow?" John asked.

"Um, no, not as – not as such," Sherlock said, trying to keep breathing as John reached up and stroked the ridge of his cheekbone underneath one eye with his thumb.

"That's just on special occasions then," John said, with a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way that made Sherlock’s heart jump.

"Well, just when I'm on a case..." Sherlock swallowed hard. "With you. I think."

This hadn't happened before. Usually, after a case that got their blood rocketing around their veins like this, Sherlock would play something frantic on the violin to stop himself from doing something reckless. Such as grabbing John by the collar and snogging him against the nearest semi-solid object. John would go off to his room for some reason and come back down about ten minutes later to make them both tea.

It was looking more and more likely that Sherlock’s resolve would crack, and he would end up snogging John in this very taxi.

"Sherlock," John said carefully, and his hand slid down the side of his face.

Sherlock held his breath as John's thumb came up to caress his bottom lip. Sherlock bit his lip to stop it trembling and swallowed around the lump in his throat. His heart was pounding, and his thoughts refused to come together in a way that made sense. All he could think was that John was touching him, and looking at him like... like... 

And then John said, "Pupils dilated, pulse is at 90 bpm, flushed skin."

Sherlock was confused until he remembered that he himself had told John how to deduce if someone was attracted to someone else. John was deducing him like he had deduced Irene Adler. Suddenly mortified at his body for giving him away so easily, he looked away quickly. If they weren't in a cab, he would have left the scene of the crime immediately, but there was no such option available now.

A gentle hand under his chin urged him to look back, and he complied reluctantly. He was only too aware of how his body had responded to his sudden shame, painting his face a vivid red.

John smiled and said, "Look into my eyes, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock said, "John, I don't think that – "

"Just look," John said.

Sherlock gulped, and then John reached down for one of his hands and brought it up to his neck. At first, Sherlock wasn't sure what John was trying to say, but then, he felt it underneath his fingertips. John's pulse was throbbing away desperately, fierce and strong. Sherlock looked up and met John's eyes. His pupils were full and dark, the iris a ring of blue eclipsed by exhilaration.

"Oh," Sherlock said hoarsely.

"Yeah," John said, and smiled. "Oh."

Sherlock swallowed again, hard. This was unexpected. A frisson of heat ran down his spine and settled in his abdomen. Sherlock wasn't sure how to describe John's expression, but he looked as if only his sense of decency was holding him back from ravaging Sherlock right there in the back of the cab.

Oh. This was happening. Right now. As soon as the cab dropped them at Baker Street.

Sherlock bit his lip again, and John smoothed his thumb over it again.

"Hey," he said, voice husky. "That's my job, luv."

Sherlock flushed and he couldn't move, he was so suddenly and completely turned on.

"Your stop," the cab driver suddenly said, and the bottom dropped out of Sherlock’s stomach.

Christ. Almost in a trance, Sherlock got out of the cab, legs wobbly. John came around the other side and before Sherlock could even get his keys out, he was crowded against the door to 221b.

"John," he groaned as John pressed him against the solid surface at his back.

"Shhh..." John whispered.

Tangling his fingers in Sherlock’s hair, John drew his head down so that he could kiss him. Sherlock let out a muffled whine as John's mouth met his. He hadn't kissed anyone in a very long time, but John knew what he was doing. Very quickly, John teased his way into Sherlock’s mouth. As promised, he nipped at Sherlock’s lower lip, and Sherlock made a strangled noise of pleasure.

"Oh, I like that noise," John murmured against his lips. "Let's see if there are other ways to make you make it."

Sherlock whimpered, and John claimed his mouth with hot, drugging kisses. It was euphoric. John began kissing along his jaw, and Sherlock gasped desperately, hands coming up to grasp at the front of John's jumper. His knees wobbled alarmingly.

"Like that, do you?" John growled against his ear.

"Oh!" Sherlock gasped as John pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck.

The entire surface of his skin felt sensitized as John mouthed along his neck. The stubble on John's face teased him even more, and Sherlock trembled and waited in anticipation. The edge of teeth along his neck made him shiver and arch his neck, head tipping back against the door, exposing the length of his throat to John's attention.

John pressed him back against the door with his whole body. His hands found their way underneath his coat and pulled his shirttails out of his trousers. Warm hands caressed his hipbones, and Sherlock lifted up a hand to put it over his mouth, stifling the sounds spilling from his lips.

He didn't know what to concentrate on, John's mouth tracing his neck with his tongue and teeth, or the fact his erection was pressing into John's hip. The dial on his arousal had jumped from moderate to in-danger-of-combustion, and if they didn't go inside soon, Sherlock feared that their first time together was going to reach its peak right out there on the street.

"John..." he whimpered. "We should..."

John drew back and grinned ferally, and Sherlock's gut lurched, wondering if John would simply pick him up and carry him off caveman-style. The idea wasn't as unappealing as he would have imagined earlier, before all this had unravelled.

"You're right," John said. "Let's take this to your bedroom."

John unlocked the door for them, as Sherlock’s fingers were trembling too much to be of much use. John took him by the hand, much more gently than Sherlock had anticipated, and drew him along behind him. Sherlock followed, heart still pounding.

John looked back and smiled, "No need to be nervous, luv. It's just me, you know."

"There's no 'just' about you, John," Sherlock said, and his voice sounded far too wrecked for this early in the evening.

"Come on," John said. "I'm going to be so good to you, sweetheart."

Once they got into their flat, Sherlock quickly shrugged his way out of his coat and shoes, John following suit. To his surprise, John went to the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"What's that for?" Sherlock asked.

"For afterward," John explained. "Trust me when I say we won't want to move after this."

"Oh," Sherlock said.

"Come on," John said, walking backwards, pulling Sherlock along by the front of his shirt. 

Sherlock reached out and grasped John by his belt loops, leaning his forehead against John's. John grinned up at him and nipped at his lower lip again. They tumbled backwards as they came up against Sherlock’s bed, and John expertly flipped them over. Reverently, he started unbuttoning Sherlock’s shirt, and Sherlock struggled out of it awkwardly. John had obviously had recent practice, and Sherlock had no idea what he was doing. Fumbling university tumbles didn't really count as experience as far as Sherlock was concerned.

John didn't seem to mind. He pulled his jumper and vest over his head and threw them on the floor. Sherlock gulped as John settled over him, and tilted his head up pleadingly. John laughed and leaned down to kiss him again. Sherlock found it strangely addicting, considering that just a few hours earlier, his stance on snogging was that it was somewhat pointless.

Sherlock ran his hands over John's shoulders and down his back. John was still very fit, and Sherlock marvelled at the flex of muscle beneath his palms. John became preoccupied with biting and kissing Sherlock’s neck again, and Sherlock’s whole back arched as John sucked a mark into his skin. Sherlock’s groin throbbed in time with the newly-made mark.

"John," he groaned. "Please."

"Yes," John hissed, and sat up so that he could attack Sherlock’s trousers.

Sherlock watched in fascination as John pulled his trousers down over his hips and squirmed as John leaned down to nose at Sherlock’s erection through his pants. Sherlock panted, and his hands automatically went down to grasp at John's head, burying his fingers in John's short-cropped hair. John groaned, a sound that came from deep in his chest and rumbled out like a growl.

John inhaled deeply and made a pleased noise of appreciation.

"You smell so good," he said.

Sherlock whimpered and bucked his hips up entreatingly. John finally tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pulled them down, releasing Sherlock’s erection. John closed his hand around the base and stroked up slowly. Sherlock groaned and rolled his hips up.

"You're leaking so much," John said, rubbing his thumb through the fluid bubbling up from his slit.

Sherlock’s hips bucked up again, and he made a sobbing noise as John teased him. Sherlock’s heart throbbed as John leaned down and made a rumbling noise in his throat as he rubbed his face along the length of his cock. Sherlock nearly fell of the bed as he squirmed when John closed his mouth around him and swirled his tongue in a way that sent liquid heat rushing through him.

"Oh, Christ," Sherlock swore as he felt John's thumb press gently against his entrance. "John!"

He suddenly sat up, causing John to disengage and watch as Sherlock reached over to search in his bedside table until he emerged with a bottle of lube.

"Oh," John said. "You want – "

"Yes, please, John," Sherlock said. "Yes. Oh, please yes."

"I've never heard you say please so many times," John said, but accepted the lube.

The first finger burned in a way that was not entirely pleasant, bringing him back from the edge slightly. It had been a while since he'd had anything inside him.

John stopped. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, keep going," Sherlock urged.

John pressed the finger in deeper, while licking Sherlock’s cock from root to tip. Sherlock gasped and writhed as John continued to lave attention on his cock while fingering him open. The pleasure washing over him in the wake of John's skill distracted him from the discomfort, and soon even that faded, and it began to feel quite good.

And then John's finger brushed over that spot inside him that had him arching up off the bed again, clutching at the sheets with clenched fists.

"That's the spot, yeah?" John asked huskily.

He pressed his fingers in and rubbed firmly, and Sherlock’s vision blurred as tears of pleasure welled up in his eyes.

"John, please just fuck me already," Sherlock pleaded.

"Alright, if that's what you want," John said. "Condom?"

"Bedside table," Sherlock said.

"You have condoms?" John asked, seeming surprised.

"It wasn't as if I was expecting to use them for their usual purpose,' Sherlock said, flushing. "Experiment on – "

"Alright, alright. No need to ruin the mood with something I will likely find alarming," John said, rummaging around until he found one.

John shucked his jeans and pants in one go, and Sherlock’s eyes widened as he finally set eyes on John's cock. It was... very impressive. Sherlock’s mouth watered suddenly in a visceral reaction upon seeing it. John quickly rolled the condom on, slicked himself with lube, and positioned himself between Sherlock’s legs.

"Is this a good position for you?" John asked.

Sherlock just looked at him blankly.

"To come," John clarified.

"I have no idea," Sherlock responded honestly. "I haven't ever orgasmed during a sexual encounter."

"Really?" John asked, eyes wide. "We'll have to change that."

"Please," Sherlock groaned, wiggling his hips backward, trying to find John's cock.

John leaned down and kissed him sloppily, panting against Sherlock’s mouth. As he did, he pushed forward slowly, and Sherlock dug his heels into John's back as John's cock stretched him even further. By the time he John had entered him fully, slowly thrusting his way in, they were both drenched in sweat.

"Come on, John," Sherlock demanded, arms wrapping around John's shoulders.

In response, John thurst into him, and Sherlock cried out at the feeling of John moving inside him.

"Think you can get your ankles over my shoulders?" John panted.

"Ob – obviously," Sherlock groaned.

John pressed Sherlock’s ankles back until they could rest on his shoulders, and Sherlock moaned brokenly as John sank into him even deeper. And as John began to thrust again, the change in angle caused him to brush Sherlock’s prostate.

"Fuck," Sherlock said, as the intensity ratcheted up. "Fuck, yes, John, _yes_."

He was babbling, and he didn't care, as something hot and simmering built up in his lower abdomen. He was so close, he just needed a bit more.

"Harder," he pleaded. "I need – harder, _please_."

John grasped his hips and picked up the pace, almost thrashing, face red, sweat drenching his hair. The simmering heat exploded outwards, sending rushes of pleasure through Sherlock’s body. Vaguely, he felt his cock jerk as it spurted hot fluid all over his stomach as that spot deep inside him convulsed in pleasure. As all his muscles trembled, he heard John cry out and stiffen above him.

Sherlock hazily came back to himself and became aware of the semen cooling on his skin and gluing him to John, collapsed on top of him. He smiled slowly and twined his legs with John's, feeling very satisfied and satiated.

John eventually rolled off him and used his discarded boxers to wipe them both off a little. Sherlock hardly moved, sleepily allowing John to kiss him.

"Wine?" John asked.

Sherlock blinked and sat up slowly.

"I told you we wouldn't want to move after this," John said as he poured them both a glass.

"As if I need an extra incentive to fall asleep," Sherlock said drowsily as he took a sip.

"Cheers," John said.

They finished off the half bottle that was left while sleepily entwined, and once that was done, Sherlock snuggled down into the sheets and pulled John against him.

"I can go, if you'd rather," John said.

"I wouldn't rather," Sherlock said. "Stay."

John did.

***

The next day, the two of them were back out at NSY, watching as Sgt. Donovan interrogated the suspect they had apprehended the previous day. Sherlock was still walking a bit funny, and his scarf didn't cover up all the marks John had left up and down his neck.

Sherlock had to say, in spite of his initial embarrassment, it was very pleasing not only to see every officer they met greeting them with a double take, but also for everyone to know that he was very much taken. John kept a rather possessive arm around his waist the entire time they were there, and Sherlock thrilled with pleasure over this development.

"No need to look so smug, Sherlock," Lestrade admonished him.

"Wrong," Sherlock said with a smile. "There is every need to be smug."

"You did win me fifty quid," Lestrade remarked thoughtfully.

Sherlock didn't even mind the Yarders had been betting on their relationship. As far as he was concerned, he'd collected the best prize of all.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://testosterone-tea.tumblr.com/)


End file.
